


Moonlight

by GaleFernsby (orphan_account)



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Belting, Blood, Canonical Child Abuse, Child Abuse, Dat gay shit, Kinda went ham with metephors, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rescue, Save These Children, Violence, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23053762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/GaleFernsby
Summary: I literally wrote this in a fucking chapel (I was there for a school thing)
Relationships: Johnny Cade/Dallas Winston
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	1. Sticks and Stones

**Author's Note:**

> I literally wrote this in a fucking chapel (I was there for a school thing)

It was 5:50 AM and there was no sign of Johnny. Their promised meeting time had been 5:00 in the morning, where the full moon beamed bright in the sky of dark cobalt and silver clouds.

Dallas shifted from foot to foot where he stood in the old lot, a dimly lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. He puffed out gray smoke, a shade darker than the night clouds and began to worry.

It was unusual for Dallas Winston to worry about anybody, he was supposed to be feral and heartless, the beast of the backwoods, the man that catholic mothers would warn their children about. Yet he found himself worried about a little crow-eyed boy.

Everyone thought it, but rarely said it: Johnny was not long for this world.

He wasn’t sick with any disease medicine could cure or doctors could cut away- He was ailed with the infliction of fragility.

Johnny’s glass bones broke under every blow, shattering quickly, his silk skin tearing so easily. Yet his golden heart never once dented.

Dallas felt a chill run down his spine, though not from the cold. Something was wrong, something was wrong and he knew it.

With Johnny, there was always something to worry about. He was so little a frail that he got sick so easily, and with parents like his no doubt he would not get the proper care.

The curtis family tried their best to help, they were kind folks but Johnny was terrified to ask for help. He’d never ask for anything out of fear of being a burden, something that despite all he’s done for his little rag-tag patchwork family still remains one of his deepest fears.

He exhaled another puff of smoke, tossed the cigarette on the ground and broke into a jog down the concrete path, Johnny’s house was a few blocks from the lot so it shouldn’t take him too long.

Dallas shoved a hand into his pocket as he ran, feeling around for his old, rather rusty knife. It was a relic and loosing its edge but it should defend him well enough if he runs into anything.

Dallas slowed his pace upon seeing the rickety old shack completely dark, no lights shone from the broken windows but there was an old-ass, banged up truck in the driveway. Dallas knew what it meant for the truck to be in the driveway.

He rose onto the tips of his shoes and ran as quietly as he could around the house, looking for Johnny’s window. He knew that the lock was broken and there were no curtains so it would be easy to get his attention.

That was when he heard a loud crash that made him instinctively grab his hunting knife and flick its rusty blade upward, the now lit lamp reflecting fiery light off the steel.

Dallas crouched like a panther waiting to strike, icy eyes staring intently, wide and wild.

Dallas heard shouting, a man’s voice; deep and rough, gravelly and slurred with drunkenness. This was followed by a loud crack that sounded like a whip in the air.

Dallas had to stop himself from running in with his blade then and there, dear god he wished he had his heater with him.

Dallas moved swiftly towards the window and glared in, what he saw made his blood run cold.

Johnny’s soft face was bruised up as he was bent over the side of a filthy old mattress that rested on the ground, frameless with only a ratty blanket.

From the waist down his pants and shorts had been torn to his ankles, a doubled leather belt striking the bare skin and leaving red welts.

Johnny’s face was buried in his arms as he gripped the old blanket, but from the way his shoulders quivered and heaved Dallas could tell he was sobbing into his sleeves.

Dallas wanted to save him, he wanted to do something- anything. But whatever he did would only cause more hurt to come upon his precious little crow.

All he could do was crouch, one calloused hand over his mouth, ice-eyes wide with horror and rage while Johnny’s skin was bruised further by the cruel leather.

A particularly harsh slash to the inner thigh suddenly broke the skin and Johnny _screamed_. He could hold it in no more and just started wailing openly, crying for help and Dallas could watch this happen no longer.

He stood, unable to control his beating heart as it guided his next move, he squeezed the blade’s handle so hard his pale knuckles when a ghostly white.

With one hand he grabbed a stone and threw it at the rackety window, shattering the old glass instantly, causing the man to drop the belt.

Johnny sobbed openly into his arms, blood dripping down his legs, he moved a hand down to pull his shorts up and just lie limp on the mattress.

The old man ran out the room, and Johnny could hear him shouting something about a shotgun. Thats when the panther pounced.

He smashed the window open when he heard shouting from the front yard and climbed through, ignoring how his arms were cut and his jeans slashed by shards.

Johnny whimpered and looked over his shoulder weakly, his face a mess of tears and bruises. Dallas put a finger to his lips and whispered ‘shhh’ before quickly pulling him up into his arms, grabbed the old jeans on the floor and swinging those over his shoulder for him once they escaped.

Johnny laced his clammy hands around the back of Dallas’ neck and buried his face in the older boy’s shoulder, tears staining the jacket.

Dallas knew he had no time to loose so he clambered out the window just before the man turned to come inside again. He took off into the woods bordering the house and hid for a while, heart pounding as he saw Johnny’s father with a shotgun in hand. 

When the man gave up and turned back into the house, Dally moved Johnny so that he was clinging to his back. He held onto Johnny’s legs as the young boy’s arms clung to his shoulders and ran as fast as he could into the darkness with nothing but his gut guiding him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry this took so long, damn.
> 
> Kinda went ham with metaphors cause its sexy ngl
> 
> Sorry its so short

Moonlight.

Pale, soft, dim. Setting the swaying leaves alight with a delicate shade of silver. Owls called out in the night, the nearby stream burbled, and the injured boy breathed softly through cracked lips.

The pale boy’s stormy teal eyes glowed gloomily as he brooded like a wolf guarding its young ward. A tiny, doe-eyed, wounded boy who lay with his head rested on the lap of the born-hunter.

The wolf-boy’s soft breath grazed the exposed neck of the fawn he so dutifully guarded, a neck he could visualize himself tearing open with such ease, yet still the thought disgusted him.

Dallas looked up into the night sky and sighed, the feeling of hopelessness overwhelming him as he realized that he had only made everything worse.

Johnny would still have to return to his father’s house after this night, and his escape would only bring him more pain.

But at least he was safe tonight.

Dallas had carried him to their meeting place and laid the fawn-boy in his lap, their resting place shielded by a veil of tall grass and cat-tail willows which swayed in the cool night air around them. Here it was safe, and all there was to do was wait till morning.

Johnny was awake, but completely silent. His breaths came out short and ragged as Dallas kept a hand pressed tightly to his bleeding thigh, red staining the copper skin of his right leg. The heavy leather coat lay draped across the fawn like a blanket.

“You uhm..” Dallas puffed out a breath of white, eyes staring troubled into the distance. “You alright?” He said after wetting his dry lips.

Johnny moaned softly as he tried to move, his flayed hide only bringing more pain as he tried to shift himself. He moved his head up farther in Dallas’ lap and relaxed again. “Coulda been worse.”

Dallas stiffened at that, feeling his hackles rise and his near-fangs start to shine in the glow light behind cracked lips as they curled back in a snarl. 

“We’re getting you to the Curtis house.” He announced in a quiet, commanding voice.

Johnny nodded softly in agreement, then whimpered in surprise as Dallas slid his hands around the fawn and slung him over his shoulder in a sheep’s carry before heading to the only place of true shelter either boy would ever know.


End file.
